


Saturn Returns

by like_lions



Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Alive Reginald Hargreeves, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Daddy Issues, Family Feels, Gen, Inspired by Misfits (TV 2009), Inspired by Pushing Daisies, Klaus Hargreeves Deserves Better, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, Mommy Issues, Or Accidental Grandbaby Acquisition, Protective Klaus Hargreeves, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:29:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28515714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/like_lions/pseuds/like_lions
Summary: Every 29.5 years or so Saturn returns to the position it was in when you were first born. This is often associated with facing adult challenges and coming of age. Klaus faces his second Saturn return (or first excluding his trip to the sixties) and with it faces a familiar face within the Sparrow Academy. Except that familiar face is just a variant of his own.Or: Klaus Hargreeves unknowingly had a baby he left in the sixties and a grandchild born as one of the seven Sparrow Academy children that Reginald adopted in the new timeline. He inherited his powers. And his angst.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves & Everyone, Klaus Hargreeves & Original Character(s), The Hargreeves Family
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	1. 29.5 Years

_You taught me the courage of stars before you left_

_How light carries on endlessly even after death_

_With shortness of breath you explained the infinite_

_How rare and beautiful it is to even exist_

Ultimately nothing really mattered. Duncan found that out years ago. The numbers, the fatherly approval, the “saving the world,” it was all one drawn out distraction from the emptiness they all felt inside. He was sure of it. Not that he didn’t love his family (or at least some of them), but he could never shake the feeling that he was just existing, not really living. Sure, it was fun dressing up, running directly into the line of fire, and saving the day - but the allure quickly fades and the world moves on. The Sparrow Academy were no more than C-list celebrities that popped in to stop an armed robbery every once in a while. It was hard not to get cynical, especially after thirty years. They were still wearing schoolchildren uniforms hand-sewn by mom, living at home, trying to pretend that they were special when it seemed like all they were was running out the clock.

Sometimes, though, when he closed his eyes and turned on his noise-cancelling headphones, he would drift off to sleep and imagine his mother’s face. The warm brown of her skin, the softness of her hands, and the glint in her green eyes. He would dream of her and imagine himself back home, before he was adopted into this shitshow. When he was just Duncan, the normal boy, and not Duncan Hargreeves, Number Three, The Phoenix. When his mother would tell him bedtime stories about the sun and the stars, the way the moon moved around them and followed him like a guardian angel. He would take solace in the knowledge that even if life was strange, it was still a gift. But eventually he would wake from his slumber and face the cruel reality—it was all just a dream and he wasn’t going to be able to get it back. Reginald made sure of that.

—

He was three when he was adopted, if you can even call it that. He barely remembered that time of his life outside of his nightly comfort dream, but he was able to piece together that Reginald Hargreeves had sought him out from the day he was born. His date of birth was significant and the potential power he possessed was highly valuable. Of course, that didn’t matter much to his mother. She just wanted him for him, his warm brown eyes and chubby tan thighs. She rejected Reginald’s offer time and time again. Pogo told him that it frustrated Reginald to no end - he wasn’t able to get him in early training and felt valuable time was being wasted. But still, he held out hope that one day he would get his hands on him. And then one day, for some unknown reason, his mother changed her mind. She contacted Mr. Hargreeves and told him he could have her little boy, but he needed to pick him up that day. And so it was.

When Duncan - or Number Three as his father often insisted upon calling him - would ask about his mother, he was told that she didn’t want him anymore. Why else would she have given him up? He had the distinct experience of being the only one of his siblings to know his birth mother, a curse in and of itself. Because that just meant that his mother knew exactly what - and whom - she was giving up and she still did it.

Reginald assured him that he was much better off - his mother was from some hippie-dippy commune out west. That was no place for a growing boy, especially one with his particular…talents. You see, Duncan Hargreeves had a way with death. Or a way around it, you could say. He was able to dematerialize and teleport himself from one place to another. He was able to communicate with the dead (and tune them out with his headphones). But most uniquely, Duncan Hargreeves could not die. His immortality earned him his superhero moniker - The Phoenix. Rising from the ashes every time, stronger even with each time he regenerated. It thrilled Reginald to pieces - a superhero son that could put himself in the line of fire to protect his siblings. Of course, this wasn’t the greatest experience for Number Three himself, having to die and come back to life countless times throughout his thirty years.

It wasn’t all doom and gloom though - he still had his moments. He inherited his mother’s smile and a laugh that echoed through that old rickety mansion. He was kind and forgiving and kept secrets for his siblings. He was loyal and never held the treatment his father gave him against them. And most of all, he kept away from the drugs. According to Reginald, his mother was a hippie junkie drug user, and he likely inherited her “awful, tasteless, ghastly” addictive personality. So he tried to take care of himself and dealt with his depression and loneliness the good old fashioned way - alcohol. The All-American way to punish yourself and forget it all.

And true to form, he was a high-functioning alcoholic. He was never late and showed up every time, even when all he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and stop existing. It was just one of many reasons that Reginald told him that he was Number One in his heart - the highest level of praise their father was capable of giving. Of course, he wasn’t actually Number One. Or Number Two for that matter. Ben could summon the tentacle demon realm through his chest and Christopher could reverse time. Even being a green glowing cube couldn’t upset his place in the family line of succession. His siblings had active powers - they could control fire, read minds, control the fucking weather. But Duncan? His powers were as passive as could be - no matter what you did to him he just would not die.

Ironically, throughout his teens that’s all he wanted to do. He couldn’t talk to his siblings about that though. No, that would be too much of a cliche. The boy with the death-related superhero being depressed and suicidal? What’s next, an immortal boy with the power to control death not being able to save his one true love from imminent death? Yeah, like that happened.

—

The Umbrella Academy. He had spent his years studying them with his siblings, preparing for their eventual return to the timeline. Of course, Reginald was several steps ahead, adopting seven new superpowered children to render them obsolete. It was just yet another way that Duncan felt like he had no real purpose in life. What kind of life is that - existing just to pull a cosmic gotcha on a group of people Reggie had a bad dinner with over 50 years ago? But Reginald was sure he was going to get the jump on these guys. He noted their powers and their names long ago, raising the Sparrows to be the perfect counters to each of them. Pogo had spent hours every week quizzing the children about each of the Umbrella Academy members. So when they finally dropped out of the sky as predicted by Reginald in April 2019, there weren’t any surprises - for them at least.

As the Umbrella Academy six took in their surroundings - and the parallel universe version of their Ben - the Sparrows watched over on the balcony. Naturally, Duncan’s eyes went straight to Klaus, the Umbrella Academy’s Number Four, The Seance. He was raised to be the natural counter to his powers, but from what his father told him, there wasn’t much he needed to be prepared to fight against. Klaus was an eccentric addict who spent more of the past two decades high than sober. Reginald wasn’t even sure if he had control over any of his powers, let alone the ability to use them against others in battle. So it was expected to be an easy assignment for him.

One thing that Duncan hadn’t anticipated, though, was the instant connection he felt when he looked at him. Of course, Klaus was an interesting figure. He was flouncy and walked around with a certain happy-go-lucky, how-goes-it attitude. He was wearing a black cowboy hat and appeared to have flat ironed his hair (did men even do that in the sixties?). But what was most unsettling was the way that Klaus looked at him. There was something evocative there— a darkness and pain he anticipated, and a familiar glint in his green eyes that he didn’t.


	2. Blood

“What are the odds?”

Duncan paced around the basement kitchen raking his hands through his curly black hair. Ben rolled his eyes, knowing that this cyclical conversation was going absolutely nowhere.

“We’ve been over this.”

“But what are the odds?”

“That another guy has the same eye color that your mother had?” Ben asked incredulously. “I’d say they’re pretty high.”

“It’s not just that, you know that.”

“Okay…” Ben acquiesced. “That a guy with the same death powers as you has the same eye color that your mother had? Less likely, but still not out of the question.”

“He looked at me, dude.”

Ben chuckled sarcastically. “He looked at me too,” he said hopping off his seat on the kitchen table. “That doesn’t mean he’s my white dad or whatever you think he is.”

“You’re not taking this seriously.”

“Because you’re not making any sense!”

Duncan groaned dramatically.

“And anyway, we’re not supposed to be trying to get to know these losers anyway. You heard dad - we get in, we show them they’re irrelevant and get them to get the hell out of town.”

Duncan cut his eyes at his brother. The odd-numbered odd “couple” had always been close. Maybe a result of their shared love of black, eyeliner, and darkness. He generally always understood him, never judging his lack of drive or hope for the future. He was like him - a grumpy goth who resigned himself to his fate as a washed up superhero in his early thirties.

“Do you really think that?”

“What?”

“Do you really think that’s all dad wants from us?” Duncan asked, staring into his brother’s black-brown eyes. “Seriously?”

Ben broke the gaze and shrugged his shoulders. “What, do you think dad wants us to kill them?”

“Is that so out of the question?”

“Dude, what the f—“

“What are you two idiots talking about down here,” Number Two asked the pair after hopping silently down the stairs. Ben jumped, still not being used to that newly discovered power. It was one thing to get used to Duncan essentially teleporting himself wherever like Casper the Ghost, and an entirely other thing to get used to Cara essentially hovering from place to place like a shadow entity.

“Jesus Christ…”

“You’re a little too jumpy to be the leader of the Sparrows, Ben,” Cara said, cutting her eyes at him. “I’m gonna tell dad that you’re losing your edge.”

She took a look over at Duncan, his face looking pale and dull.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He rolled his eyes. “What do you want?”

Their sister feigned devastation. “Is it not enough to want to check on my dearest brothers? You two are my favorite, you know.”

“You’re a pathological liar with an electra complex,” Ben replied. “So what do you want?”

Cara smiled at him, loving their banter, although the vitriol was just real enough to keep things interesting. “Dad is wondering where you two are. We’re having…dinner? Is it dinnertime? Anyway, we’re having a meal. Come on before he sends reinforcements.”

“Too high to have a sense of time, C?” Duncan asked as she walked to the stairs.

“Oh, D,” she replied. “If there are two things I hate most, they’re food and time. But it’s food time and we have guests, so move it or lose it.”

—

Family meals with the Hargreeves were always a treat. And by a treat, they were the worst thing imaginable. Reginald enforcing mealtime etiquette like they were at Buckingham Palace, each of the siblings crowing for attention, and the more introverted few (Ben and Duncan included) desperate to get out as quickly as possible. They truly could not imagine anything worse. Of course, family meals with the “extended” Hargreeves family? Infinitely worse. Reginald showboated the entire time, showing the Umbrellas the wonderful life that they missed out on. Of course, this was a meaningless endeavor, seeing as in their timeline they were already raised by him so they knew that it was all bullshit.

He wanted the Sparrows to show off their “superior” powers, having Edie show Diego how she could manipulate knives with her mind alone, and Vanya that Teddy had full control of his frighteningly powerful soundwave manipulation. But the most cringe moment for Duncan was when he was called upon to show Klaus his power.

“I don’t think it’s really mealtime appropriate,” he offered, giving a desperate help me look to mom and Pogo.

Of course, this was unacceptable for Reginald who casually walked over to him and - as Duncan braced himself for the inevitable - used a steak knife to slit his throat. Definitely not mealtime appropriate, as Pogo tried to block the blood from staining the good tablecloth. Rather than being impressed, it appeared that Klaus was disturbed and terrified. Along with the rest of the Umbrellas he stood up to look over at Duncan’s temporarily dead body before he “miraculously” came back to life within twenty seconds. He felt lightheaded and rubbed his neck where the skin had regenerated. It wasn’t even close to the worst way to die, but was a bit too dramatic for a Wednesday evening.

“Your time is improving, Number Three,” Reginald said, a stopwatch in his hand. “Exactly 18 seconds.” The other Sparrows averted their eyes, used to this freaky and frankly upsetting ritual. The proud father turned toward the Umbrella Academy members, specifically Klaus.

“Can you do that, my boy?”

Klaus looked at Duncan, the blood on the china, and back at Reginald, his face twisted up in sympathy pain. “Uhhhh,” he stammered. “I don’t think I want to.”

Duncan moved back into his chair - having fallen backwards involuntarily upon his exsanguination, and chugged his red wine. He motioned over to Pogo to bring more and leave the bottle. Once again his now glassy eyes caught Klaus’.

“You okay?” Klaus asked him quietly. Duncan silently shook his head and offered the bottle to Klaus, which he wholeheartedly accepted. Their siblings looked over in shared disappointment and Duncan wondered if this was another genetic trait he inherited from his father, grandfather, whoever the hell he was.

—

“He looks like me,” Klaus said, thinking out loud as he and his siblings crashed in their old bedrooms - or the guest bedrooms as they were now.

“What?” Allison asked, half awake.

“Nothing.”

“Who? Dad?”

Klaus scoffed. “No, Jesus, no.”

“Then who?”

“It’s nothing.”

She looked concernedly at her brother before resting her head back down on their shared pillow. He had been awfully quiet since they returned, but she assumed that was because of losing Ben. He hadn’t had to grieve over the past decade and was dealing with it all suddenly, so she understood. Still, as a mother - or at least she was a mother in her own timeline - she felt a need to check in on him. Minutes passed and when she saw that he was still awake staring at the ceiling, she asked again.

“Who are you talking about?”

“It’s nothing, I told you.”

“Oh my god,” Five shouted from his spot on the floor. “Can you two shut up already? It’s the middle of the night and we have bigger things to worry about. Like the body snatchers sleeping across the hall.”

“They’re not body snatchers,” Vanya said quietly.

“What?”

“She’s right,” Diego piped up. “They didn’t steal our bodies. Just our lives, I guess.”

“Whatever. Can you all go to sleep?”

“…”

“Are you talking about the guy that dad killed today?” Luther asked his brother. “Or, not killed. The guy he…”

“Killed,” Diego finished for him. “And then resurrected.”

“I’m pretty sure he did that himself,” Klaus corrected him.

“So you are talking about him,” Luther replied.

“What part of it’s nothing are you not understanding?”

“Jesus, I’m just trying to help,” Number One replied quietly.

Klaus turned over on his side away from Allison, wrapping his arms around himself to avoid a chill as he stared out the window.

“Well to answer your question…” Vanya said, Klaus groaning again. “Yes, he does.”

“What?”

“He does look like you,” Allison replied for her. “But like a more tall, dark, and handsome version of you.” Klaus sat up and turned back to face her, his face curled up in an exaggerated expression of hurt.

“Ouch,” Diego said with a laugh before catching a pillow in the face courtesy of his sister.

Five moaned loudly, tossing and turning as his stupid siblings refused to let him sleep. “What does any of this matter? Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” Klaus responded. “I just thought it was interesting, you know. We have the same powers and all.”

“No you don’t,” Luther replied. “You’re not immortal.”

“Yes I am.”

The other Hargreeves - including the previously disinterested Five - sat up and stared at him.

“Did I forget to mention that?”


	3. Desiree

He was going to do it. He made up his mind. He was going to walk up to the stranger with the familiar face and superpowers and…what was he gonna do, exactly?

_“I think we’re related because of a series of coincidences, do you agree?”_

It sounded insane. Yet it was the shared plan of both Klaus and Duncan that morning, their feet leading them to a common location in the foyer where they both just stared at each other, not sure what to say.

“…Good morning,” Duncan decided was the easiest conversation starter.

“Yeah, good morning…” Klaus replied. They continued just standing there, the anxiety and tension building until finally…

“Do we know each other?” “Are you related to me?”

They spoke over each other, Duncan choosing a more subtle way of approaching it and Klaus just barreling ahead with it.

“I’m not sure.” “I don’t think so.”

“Wait, what?” Duncan asked.

“I don’t think we know each other, but you look very…me? If that makes sense.”

“Yeah, it does.”

“But I came from the sixties, and I was born the same day as you, so it’s all very…confusing.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“I don’t know how that’s even possible.”

“Maybe it isn’t,” Duncan admitted. “A lot of people look alike, and like you said, you were born in 1989, so there’s no way you could be my dad.”

“Unless I time traveled again…”

“What?”

“I don’t know, there was a whole thing with Five, and a briefcase, and the timeline getting screwed up and the Sparrows…”

Duncan shook his head in confusion. “But you don’t remember stopping in the eighties? Maybe on a hippie-dippy commune out west?”

“No,” Klaus replied. “If I would I would have been doing coke on Wall Street, not playing Woodstock in Sioux City or wherever you’re from.”

“Berkeley.”

Klaus narrowed his eyes. “Berkeley?”

“Berkeley,” he nodded.

“Why does that sound so familiar?” Klaus said aloud, racking his brain. “Berkeley, Berkeley, Berkeley…”

“Yeah, Berkeley. Berkeley, Berkeley,” Duncan repeated. “Are we doing a thing here, or?”

“Berkeley, Berkeley,” Klaus repeated like a mantra. “Berkeley, Berkeley…Jill! Jill, that was her name. She was from Berkeley.”

Duncan sighed. “Well I guess we’re not related, because my mom’s name wasn’t Jill.”

“But it wouldn’t be your mom, would it? I’m confusing myself, god, I am too sober for this.”

“Do you wanna raid Pogo’s liquor cabinet?” Duncan offered. “I know how to pick the lock and can refill the bottles so he’ll never know.”

“I definitely do know, Master Duncan,” a familiar voice replied from the stairs. Duncan cringed as he turned around and faced who else but Pogo.

“Hey!” Duncan said, faking a smile. “Didn’t see you there old man.”

“You think I wouldn’t notice you refilling my bottles over the past ten years?” Pogo asked him.

“More like twenty…” Duncan replied under his breath as Klaus stifled a laugh.

“But I’m not here to lecture you on the dangers of binge drinking,” Pogo said. “I just thought I could offer a little assistance. It sounds like you’re looking for your birth records…information about your mother.”

“Or her mother. Or her father?” Duncan corrected.

“Yes,” Pogo nodded. “I could get those for you. I know where Mr. Hargreeves has them tucked away.”

Duncan narrowed his eyes at him. “And why would you do that?”

Pogo slowly approached him with a smile. “I haven’t always been able to help you, but perhaps this can make up for it. A repayment of a debt owed, we’ll call it.”

“And you won’t tell dad?” Klaus asked. “I mean, Mr. Hargreeves, Esquire, or whatever he uses now.”

“It will just stay between us three,” Pogo replied.

Duncan continued to look skeptical, but Klaus was fully onboard once he heard Old Reggie wasn’t going to find out.

“Alright, take us to the records,” he said with a flourish of the hand, throwing an arm around Duncan. “Come on son. Or nephew. Or grandson. Or dad!”

—

Klaus dramatically dropped the old manila file folders on the table in front of him. Dust immediately lept up from the old pages and filled the room, much to Pogo’s dismay.

“Sorry, sorry,” Klaus told him.

“I’m going to leave you to it,” Pogo told the pair. “Don’t destroy anything.”

“Of course,” Duncan told him.

“Promise me,” Pogo said, a deep seriousness in his tone.

“I promise, geez,” both of them said to the aging chimp. After he left and they started to dig into the files, it became apparent that what Reginald lacked in parenting skills, he made up for in paperwork. The adoptions were iron clad. There were confidentiality agreements, NDAs, news articles detailing the events around the births, blood types of the moms. Just about everything imaginable. Including detailed ancestry charts. Taking a look at Duncan’s, it was about as detailed as it could be. No father was listed for Duncan (no surprise there, he didn’t remember a man being around when he was young), and no grandfather either. But under grandmother, there it was, just as Klaus had suspected.

“Maternal grandmother, Jill Jackson, born 1942 in Berkeley, California,” Duncan read aloud. He took a moment to take it all in. It wasn’t only confirmation that he was right about his relationship to Klaus - apparently his grandpa - but it was also the only tangible information he had about where he came from.

“I have a grandson!” Klaus said excitedly, throwing his arms around Duncan. When they came out of the hug, Klaus paused, took a moment to think, and then looked like he was undergoing some deep reflection. “Wait…I have a grandson.”

“Yes,” Duncan replied.

“Which means I have a son.”

“No, it means you have a daughter,” Duncan corrected him. “My mom.”

Klaus grabbed the file out of Duncan’s hands and looked at the information inside. There was a photo of Jill that he recognized from his cult, but underneath her listing in Duncan’s ancestry chart was a daughter with unidentified father.

“Mother, Desiree Jackson, born 1964 in Berkeley, California…” Klaus read aloud. “1964. So after I left the sixties, Jill left Dallas and had a daughter. My daughter.”

“Now you’re getting it!” Duncan said like he was a host on a children’s television show.

“Desiree,” Klaus repeated as if in a trance.

“Yes. And bringing it back to me…” his grandson replied. “Duncan. Me. I’m here. Are you listening?”

But the noise just faded into the background for Klaus. And as the silence broke, he looked over at Duncan, seeing his own bone structure reflected in his, and asked, “What do you remember about her?”

Duncan opened his eyes wide, not expecting that kind of question. After all, he was just three when he saw her last. But the memories he did have of her were permanently etched into his mind.

“I mean, she was…she was the best. I think about her all the time,” he replied. “She had this warm smile and brown skin and curly brown hair that went down her shoulders and the biggest green eyes I’ve ever seen…until now, I guess.”

Klaus looked at him, picking up on the sadness in his tone. “And you stayed with her?”

Duncan nodded. “Until I was three. She kept me for three years. And then…she just changed her mind. I don’t know why.”

Klaus looked down at his hands, the feeling of rejection weighing heavily on his mind. It hadn’t been long since he felt it personally, not to mention feeling it his entire life.

“I’m sure she had her reasons.”

“What reason would be good enough?”

They sat there together, in that dusty old attic, and for once in a long time they felt at home. In a mansion that was all but a home, filled with people that loved them but never quite understood. And yet despite just having met, they felt a closeness towards one another, a mutual understanding, that they never had before. And it was nice, if only for a moment.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a little plot bunny that popped into my head reviewing TUA Reddit. I just thought this would be an interesting concept - this is separate from my other Sparrow Academy story and is focusing mainly on family and the relationship between Klaus and Duncan. More of a character study, angst, and family love fest. Let me know your thoughts!


End file.
